Where was Calrain?she wondered, scanning the hall for him again. He usually broke his fast at the same time she did, but try as she might, she could not find him anywhere. She bit her lip, worried he was avoiding her. Had she been too forward with him lastnight?
And what else could you have been but forward?a voice in her head admonished. Under such dire circumstances, there had been no time to sugarcoat her words. With the wedding so close, they had to decide soon, or she would be doomed to a short life in a marriage full of pain andmisery.
Part of her, the anxious part that gnawed at her mind, wanted to seek Calrain out and talk to him again. But she knew that would do no good, and if her friend needed time and solace to think about it, she could hardly begrudge him. After all, he had been brought up in a monastery of stern followers of Roisen, the god in whose name women in Fjordland were persecuted as witches. To abandon the teachings of his whole life and commit such a grievous sin as she had proposed, to aid and abet a real witch—no,mage—must be very hard for him toaccept.
Indeed, she was somewhat surprised Riann had agreed to the plan so readily—but then again, he was not as religious, and was born and bred for exactly the kind of adventure she suggested. She sighed a little as she snuck another glance at him across the room—he really was so very handsome, with his long golden hair, strong jaw, and the fine figure he cut in his jerkin and trousers. It would be a joy to make love to the both of them—Calrain was fine to look upon as well, with his striking red hair and those beautiful hands and eyes. While he did not possess Riann’s muscles or raw masculinity, his sparkling eyes and intelligence were just asattractive.
Tariel tried to sneak back to her tower room after breakfast so she could spend more time with Zolotais. She had many questions about the Empire and not a lot of time to learn. But no sooner had she arrived than a servant appeared at her door, telling her to pay a visit to the castleseamstress.
“Tsk, tsk.” The seamstress clucked her tongue as she gathered the fabric at Tariel’s waist. Tariel flinched as she stuck the pins in, the cold metal coming far too close to her tender flesh. “This dress will need to be altered significantly. You are much too small in the waist, and you will drown in thistrain.”
“Well, make sure you get those alterations done in time,” Lady Tyrook said as she entered the room. She surveyed Tariel with cold, dispassionate eyes, as if she were inspecting a horse at the market rather than the ward she had so callously raised from infancy. “The wedding will commence even if we have to dress her in a sack to doit.”
“Yes, my lady,” the seamstress said. If she was affronted by Lady Tyrook’s words, she did not say so, but merely bowed her head indeference.
Lady Tyrook circled around Tariel as the seamstress continued her work, eyeing the dress critically. “You will make a fine bride,” she said when she’d come back around, “so long as you keep your mouth shut and do as you’retold.”
Tariel said nothing as hatred for the woman boiled in her heart. Her magic tried to rise, and the familiar headache started. She wished she could unleash her power on Lady Tyrook and turn her into a toad, like the mages so often did in the legends and stories told to scare children. How delightful it would be to finally bring her low, after so many years of debasement! But Tariel could not do so without revealing her true nature, and getting away was more important than gettingrevenge.
“I imagine you have been wondering about your wedding night,” Lady Tyrook continued, “so I will spare you the suspense and give you the basics. Consummating your marriage is less about you participating in the act, and more about submitting to your husband’s carnal desires.” Her mouth bowed at the corners in distaste, telling Tariel exactly what the woman thought aboutthat. “The best thing you can do is lie back and try not to resist, even if you feel pain. It is a husband’s right to use your body for his own pleasure, and you would do well to let him, for your worth depends on your ability to produceoffspring.”
Tariel’s gut roiled in disgust, and it took an effort to keep her face blank. She had to wonder if Lady Tyrook was speaking from personal experience, and the thought only made her angrier. How could she marry her off to such a monster, knowing exactly what was in store? Did her life really mean solittle?
But then again, if this was truly all Lady Tyrook had experienced at the hands of men, perhaps she was to be pitied. Tariel knew from her own reaction to men that sex could not be as gross and unpleasant as her warden described. She only hoped that tonight, she would get the chance to find out for certain, and escape the horrible fate Lady Tyrook had laid out beforeher.
12
When Calrain returnedto his humble bedchamber that night, sleep did not come. Instead, he spent long hours staring at the ceiling, mulling over the pros and cons, trying to get past the fear sitting heavy in hischest.
In his heart, he already knew he wanted to follow Tariel. He had loved her almost from the day he’d first set eyes on her, and had never forgotten the promise they had made as children, to break the chains of convention and run off together to seek adventure and fortune. But he also feared Roisen, and if the god struck him down as punishment for helping Tariel, he would be of no use to heranyway.
Should he follow the god who had ruled every aspect of his life, or the woman who ruled hisheart?
The solitude of his quarters brought Calrain neither sleep nor answers, and when dawn’s golden-pink light filtered through his tiny window, he decided there was no point in continuing to lie abed. Instead, he dressed, then went to the prayer room to seek the counsel of hisgod.
The prayer room was a large, circular chamber close to the center of the castle, with a large skylight in the ceiling that allowed plenty of light to shine on the giant stone statue of Roisen that dominated the space. Other than the sculpture, which was fairly ornate and disturbingly lifelike, the room was fairly simplistic, with a small, white stone altar at the god’s feet where one could burn candles and leave offerings. Calrain lit one of the candles now, then left it on the altar next to a small flask of wine, hoping the god would hear himtoday.
Please, Roisen,he prayed, clasping his hands as he knelt on the floor. There was no rug beneath his knees to protect him from the harsh, cold stone—Roisen did not believe in such luxuries. He was a stern god who shunned materialism and taught his followers to embrace simple prayer andpiety.
Calrain prayed for a long while, until his knees ached and his back begged for him to straighten his spine and rise. But no answers came, and as he looked up into Roisen’s stony, uncompromising visage, a shiver raced through him. The god loomed above him in a threatening manner, and Calrain was overcome by the feeling that he was betraying Tariel just by being here. What if his presence drew the storm god’s eye to Tariel, when ordinarily he might have been focusing his attention elsewhere? Was he inviting trouble upon the woman heloved?
Uneasy, he left the prayer room and went to the kitchens, hoping a bowl of hot porridge would soothe his stomach and give him strength. As he sat at the small table in the corner, eating, he thought about what Tariel had said last night. He didn’t know why the ritual required two men, but surely after it was done, Tariel would not need him any longer. It was obvious that Tariel and Riann were fond of each other—the two of them were extraordinarily attractive and would make a perfect pair. Would they eventually consider him a third wheel and abandon him? And even if they did not, could he really bear to live with a mage and her otherlover?
His doubts plagued him as he headed for the clerk’s office. Perhaps he would bury himself in work for a few hours and put this out of his mind. His mind was too foggy from lack of sleep and anxious thoughts to make a rational decision about this. Perhaps an answer would come to him while heworked.
But when he opened the door to the office, all thoughts of working in solitude flew out of his head. His master was wide awake for once, and by the gods, he was actuallyworking!
“Good morning, Brother Tersen,” he said, unable to keep the surprise from hisvoice.
Brother Tersen snorted. “There is nothing good about mornings,” he said gruffly, dipping his pen into the inkwell. He cursed when it came out dry. “Fetch me another,” he commanded. “And bring me a new quill, while you’re atit!”
“Yes, Brother,” he said, moving to the other side of the room. He rummaged through the storage drawers for a fresh bottle of ink, but his mind was still slow this morning, and it took longer than it should have to find it. He botched the first quill that he tried to trim, and by the time he returned to his master’s desk, the man was glowering athim.
“Thought it would take you all morning,” he snapped, snatching up the quill. He waved his hand impatiently, and Calrain returned to his own desk. Even though for once he was not doing Brother Tersen’s work, Calrain couldn’t help the twinge of resentment he felt. He was used to having the office to himself in the earlymornings.
As the morning went on, various castle staff came by to dictate reports or letters. Calrain mostly ignored them, and was ignored in turn, but when the Captain of the Guard came in, he paid a little more attention. The first half of the conversation was boring—simply a report of what had occurred the day before, and instructions for the various shifts throughout the day. But the second half was far moreinteresting.
“Are there any interesting visitors coming that I should know about?” the captain asked. This was not an unusual question—Calrain and his master usually knew about these things far ahead of everyone else, as they often dictated and read letters for Lord Tyrook. The man was capable of reading and writing, but his eyesight was getting worse in his old age, and he was coming to rely on the clerk’s office more and moreoften.
